Stray Kids: Their Girl

Chapter 31: Ocean Waves and Stormy Days

Chija's POV:

Two weeks had passed since that comforting day with the boys, and now I was standing on set for Stray Kids' latest shoot. Today, I was excited to be part of their show, working closely with them on camera and helping behind the scenes. It felt like such a privilege—until the stylists made sure I knew I wasn't welcome.

At first, I brushed off their nasty glares and whispered remarks as they helped the boys with their outfits and makeup, but it only grew worse. Every time they passed by me, they'd mumble under their breath, tossing insults like "ugly" or "useless." At one point, one of them actually told me to "stop trying to fit in with them" and to "know my place." My heart sank, and I couldn't stop the hurt that pricked at my chest.

"Chija," one of the stylists sneered as I held up the outfit she'd handed me. "Seriously, you don't need to look any uglier, so why bother trying to look cute?"

I froze, taken aback. I tried to laugh it off, assuming maybe they were joking, but their eyes held no humor. It wasn't the first jab that day, either. They had been whispering among themselves, casting glances my way, smirking.

I tried to keep my head down, focusing on my tasks. But when one of the stylists 'accidentally' spilled coffee on my shirt, she looked at me with a smirk, saying, "Oops, guess some people just attract messes."

My face flushed with embarrassment. I'd had enough. The boys were just down the hall preparing for the next scene.

When I managed to find a quiet moment with Chan and nervously brought it up, his reaction wasn't what I'd expected.

"Chija, come on. The stylists are sweet. They would never be that way with you," he said, frowning in confusion.

"But... they've been saying really mean things," I insisted, hoping he would see I was serious. "It's like they're always trying to tear me down."

"Look, they're under a lot of stress, same as us," Chan replied, not meeting my gaze. "Maybe you're just... imagining it?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but Felix walked by and overheard, rolling his eyes. "Chija, why would they pick on you? Everyone on this set has been nothing but nice."

Stung, I looked at him. "So you don't believe me either?"

He shrugged, glancing back at the stylists who seemed to smile sweetly when they saw him. "Maybe just don't take everything so personally, yeah?"

Hyunjin joined in, overhearing as he adjusted his mic. "They're professionals, Chija. If they're hard on you, it's probably because they want the show to go well."

"Isn't that just... constructive criticism?" Jeongin added with a dismissive glance.

My stomach twisted painfully. I bit back my response, feeling a sharp ache building inside my chest. They were being so dismissive, acting like I was making it up. It hurt that they were so quick to believe the stylists over me.

Feeling defeated, I walked away without another word, hiding the hurt in my expression. The boys quickly resumed their usual banter, as though nothing had happened.

The rest of the day was miserable. Every time I tried to focus on my tasks, one of the stylists would come over with a smirk, muttering insults just loud enough for me to hear.

"You really think you're something, don't you?" one of them said as she brushed past me. "Must be nice to hang onto the boys like a leech."

Another whispered as she handed me a jacket, "No wonder they keep you around... they probably just feel sorry for you."